


you carry it with you

by harrapunzel



Series: decorated emergency [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, No Sex, Nurse Harry, Paramedic Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:24:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9296111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrapunzel/pseuds/harrapunzel
Summary: "D'you remember when we first brought him home?" Louis asks, scooting behind Harry and leaning back against the wall, looping his arms around Harry's waist.Harry leans into him, sliding his palms onto Louis' wrists. "Best day of my life, could never forget it."Louis smiles to himself, nuzzles his nose against the back of Harry's neck."We were so scared of everything. You took two months off of work like you pushed him out yourself. I thought you were going to be fired, honestly. Wouldn't even let my mom take him for the day as if she hasn't raised a whole army on her own," Louis laughs at the memory.Harry pinches the skin of Louis' wrist, scrunching his nose up, grumbling. "I just wanted to keep him with me."





	

**Author's Note:**

> this doesn't matter really lol just another thing that wasn't going anywhere that was going to rot in my notes so i thought why not share it!

Harry's watching a body bag being zipped up around a body much too young and he thinks he might throw up. 

He has to step out of the room and splash cool water on his face, just can't stomach seeing dead kids anymore, not since he and Louis became parents.

Gun shots, sure. Open fractures, sure. Intestines popping out of stab wounds, easy. Average every day stuff.

A ten year old who was hit by a drunk driver while riding their bike, well. Not so easy. 

Not like it was ever really easy for him. He's always taken it home, the mental images of the small, lifeless bodies, but. It's worse now, just knowing that it could be his own child on the gurney one day. 

Harry leaves Niall with only a quick wave after he clocks out then rushes through the parking lot with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, hugging himself away from the cold, away from the sobbing mother, away from the coroner.

He waits until he's hit the highway to scream. He screams nearly the whole way home, trying to push out the frustration that comes with not being able to save them all, but it never really works, does it. 

When Harry gets inside the house, he catches sight of Louis in the kitchen, eating ice cream straight out of the container. 

"Hey, love," Louis rasps between bites.

Harry doesn't really register it, though, just tries to take it all in, tries to push any thought of work out of his mind. 

Louis. Light from above the oven. No socks or slippers even though he bitches about how cold the kitchen tiles are. Week old scruff. 

"Hello?" Louis says, and Harry realizes Louis greeted him thirty seconds ago.

"Hey, Lou," Harry says, dropping his bag onto the floor and chewing at the inside of his cheek for a few beats. "Elias up?"

"It's after eleven, do you think he's up?" 

Harry turns away, can't even think of a response, just heads down the hall to Elias' room. The only thing keeping him from climbing under the covers with him is that he really doesn't know what all might be on his scrubs. Instead, he crouches at his son's bedside, carefully peeling the covers back to count his fingers and toes like he seemed to do every waking moment when Elias was only a baby. 

Elias stirs when Harry tucks his blankets back up under his chin but stays asleep. 

Harry doesn't realize he's crying until Louis is at his side, wiping at his cheek ever so gently. 

"Another kid?" He whispers and Harry nods his head, unable to tear his eyes away from Eli's face.

Elias doesn't look like either of them, his skin and hair darker than both of theirs, hair longer than Harry's was even at its longest.

Harry's loved Elias with his whole heart since the moment he and Louis first met his birth mum, Juliana, only 17, her belly big with a baby she wouldn't be able to support, a baby who was coming so, so soon. 

The thing is, they'd been jumping through the hoops for so long. Louis quit smoking weed and went back to school, got his certifications to become a flight paramedic. Harry cut all of his hair off, went to only working days, and started building his credit score. They sold the house, bought a bigger one with two extra rooms, because you know, what if. They were denied over and over again, it seemed, until an agency finally took them on and paired them up with Juliana. It was perfect, really. She was so gracious, acting as if they were the ones doing her a favor, when really, she was giving Harry a reason to get out of bed in the morning. 

And now, four years later, Elias is snoring at them while they sit and stare. Harry watches the blanket rise and fall with each breath he takes. 

"You can't save them all," Louis whispers, combing his fingers through Harry's hair and taking the strands tight in his fist like he knows Harry likes, grounds him. 

"That doesn't make it any better, you know it doesn't."

Louis gives Harry's hair a tug then lets go, brushing a kiss over his reddened cheek. 

"D'you remember when we first brought him home?" Louis asks, scooting behind Harry and leaning back against the wall, looping his arms around Harry's waist.

Harry leans into him, sliding his palms onto Louis' wrists. "Best day of my life, could never forget it."

Louis smiles to himself, nuzzles his nose against the back of Harry's neck. 

"We were so scared of everything. You took two months off of work like you pushed him out yourself. I thought you were going to be fired, honestly. Wouldn't even let my mom take him for the day as if she hasn't raised a whole army on her own," Louis laughs at the memory.

Harry pinches the skin of Louis' wrist, scrunching his nose up, grumbling. "I just wanted to keep him with me."

"And now look at him, Harry, look at what we've done. He's so big, so healthy, so smart."

"I'm sorry I'm like this," Harry says after a moment of silence. "I'm sorry I can't check it at the door."

"It's alright, love," Louis says softly, bringing a hand up to stroke the side of Harry's neck. "That stuff's hard to deal with... it's hard not to see him in them."

Harry is so, so grateful to have found a partner who gets it. They allow the silence to settle around them but it becomes too much on Harry's shoulders so he makes to get up. "Gonna shower. Meet you in bed?"

Louis pinches his bum from where he sits on the floor. "Yes, sir."

•••

"Look who it is!" Harry calls when Louis steps into the kitchen, Elias riding on his shoulders.

Elias is wearing a Harley Davidson t-shirt, leggings with little unicorns on them, and a pair of glittery wellies. Harry honestly can't tell if Louis dressed him or if he dressed himself.

Harry checks his pancakes aren't ready to flip then goes over to pluck Eli from atop Louis' shoulders, hugging him to his chest for a few beats then sliding him onto his hip.

"Pancakes?" Elias asks, watching as Harry flips each pancake over, laughing at the sizzle sound it makes.

"Yes, sir!" Harry says, flipping over the very last one and earning a gasp from Elias. "What was that for?" He asks, glancing to Louis, who only rolls his eyes, amused as he sips his orange juice.

"The pancake is Olaf, dad. How did the pancake be Olaf?"

Harry spends all of his downtime at work watching pancake art videos.

"Hm, who knows?" Harry leans over to set Eli down and nods towards the table. "Go sit with papa up at the table, bub."

Elias goes over and climbs into the seat next to Louis where his own orange juice awaits him, wriggling to get comfortable before he finally settles atop his booster seat. 

"Daddy has an Olaf pancake!" He whispers to Louis as softly as a four year old can manage. 

Louis sucks his teeth, putting on the dramatics for their son. "What the heck? I wish I had an Olaf pancake." 

"Me too! He's my favorite snowman!"

Harry barks out a laugh at that. Just how many snowmen have his son become acquainted with?


End file.
